Don Brash and Massey revisited

I wanted to touch on three largely-unrelated points, two on the controversy, and one of what Don Brash was apparently going to say in his speech:

First, very briefly, much of the story has been written in terms of Massey’s Vice-Chancellor denying Don Brash the right to speak on campus.   As far as I can see, Don Brash doesn’t have any particular “right” to speak on campus, any more than you (assuming “you” aren’t a Massey student) or I do.  In that sense, the issue shouldn’t be about Don Brash –  although that is what Professor Thomas tried to make it about –  but about a Massey student society’s own freedom; the freedom to invite anyone they wish (operating within the law) to speak on campus.  That should probably be where the focus is, including  adding the question of whether Professor Thomas thinks she should also have the right to ban altogether student groups that might happen to hold views she strongly disagrees with. After all, such groups might be fora for such dangerous ideas to be uttered, not just once (probabilistically –  see the VC’s “fear” that Don Brash would utter such views) but day after day, week after week.   Both would be chilling, and especially so in a public (state-established, largely state-funded,  and with several members of the council appointed by the government) university.   Has she stopped, even momentarily, to reflect on the implications of her stance?  She’d have had no problem with anti-Vietnam War speakers –  even eminent sceptics – being banned in the 1960s?  Or perhaps speakers favouring legalisation of homosexuality in the 1970s?  And so on.  It always pays to try to look at these things the other way round, unless of course Professor Thomas’s view is “who care’s about inconsistency, I hold the commanding heights now”.    A fine standard for a university that would be.    As it is, neither Professor Thomas –  nor her Council –  will explain themselves.

Second, someone asked me last night why I made so much in my post of the fact that Professor Thomas had only been in New Zealand for 18 months or so.   Her general stance –  banning the Brash speech at the merest whisper of the threat of a few protestors, and banning it because she regarded Dr Brash’s view on some live public issues as unacceptable –  would be reprehensible from any Vice-Chancellor.

And, sadly, this stuff happens elsewhere.  La Trobe University in Melbourne last week initially tried to ban a speaker –  social commentator Bettina Arndt –  they didn’t like, then partially backed away trying to charge the organisers hefty security costs, only now to finally back down completely and adopt the only stance consistent with the values of a free and open society

But university administrators yesterday told The Australian they had decided the university would cover the cost of security, out of a desire to preserve free speech and discussion on campus. “We welcome free speech and the event will go ahead,” a spokesman said.

But if Professor Thomas banning the student society from having Dr Brash to speak would have been reprehensible at the best of times, whatever the issue, I found it more than usually unacceptable when the views Professor Thomas disapproves of so strongly are those relating to the Treaty of Waitangi, Maori wards, etc etc.    These are very specific New Zealand issues, and despite her repeated attempts to wrap herself in the Treaty of Waitangi (all that talk of being a Treaty-led organisation, whatever that means) and it ill behoves newly arrived foreigners to attempt to decree what aspects of these issues should be able to be freely discussed (hint: in a free society, any of them).  It all has the feel of a social justice warrior, rather out of her depth in a new country, having allowed herself to be captured by a particular minority.  It would be unacceptable in any public university Vice-Chancellor, but should be doubly so in one with little familiarity with the underlying issues –  and, frankly, no obvious personal interest or commitment to the future of New Zealand democracy or society.

My third point was really totally unrelated to yesterday controversy itself.  But the Herald has on its website the speaking notes Dr Brash was planning to use for his talk to Massey students about his life in politics etc.  I was struck by his final comments, particularly those on a couple of economic issues and how they have been treated under the previous government, and how things might unfold under this government.

Of the previous National government

A hugely disappointing Government:

I. They pledged to reduce the gap between NZ incomes and those in Australia, and utterly failed;

II. They pledged to make housing more affordable, and utterly failed

Hard to disagree with him on either of those.  Productivity gaps between New Zealand and Australia widened over the last 9 years, and as for housing, it became ever more unaffordable in large chunks of the country.

And here is what Dr Brash –  former leader of both National and ACT – has to say about prospects under the current Labour-led government

In my own view, the present Government is likely to do a better job in making housing more affordable, but probably a worse job in closing the income gap with Australia

I’m pretty sure he will prove right about the income and productivity gaps with Australia –  it is the sort of story I’ve been telling myself –  although bear in mind the likelihood of a change of government in Australia next year.

But what of housing?  It would be great if Dr Brash’s positive story were true, and would be quite an indictment on the previous National government.  But is he right?

I’ve been sceptical for some time, for two main reasons:

  • first, any Labour-led government was going to be dependent on the Greens, who had never shown any signs of fixing the urban land market in ways that would open competition and lower land prices. “Sprawl” is, after all, one of the things they seem to detest, and
  • second, whether in the year or two before the election or subsequently, there has been no mention of freeing up the land market from party leaders (Little or Ardern in Opposition, Ardern as Prime Minister –  although it was there if you went looking in the details of the housing policy), and lots of talk of policy responses since which, at best, only tackle symptoms.  There is lots of talk of Kiwibuild –  which, at its best, would do nothing about the land market.  There was –  and is –  no sign that the Labour leadership really believed what most serious analysts will be telling them is the only long-term fix.  If you don’t really believe it strongly, are never heard to openly make the case for it, it seems unlikely that you will be willing to push such reform through your own caucus, let alone get in through the Greens caucus.

In the last week or so I’ve seen a couple of bits of data which still leave me unclear about whether Labour will, finally, make much of difference in fixing the decades of dysfunction.

Whatever doubts many have about the Housing minister, Phil Twyford, it has always seemed as though he genuinely got the sort of reforms that might be needed.  The free-market people at the New Zealand Initiative certainly thought so a year or two back when they teamed up for a joint op-ed.

Consistent with that interpretation were some reported comments Phil Twyford had made recently in a vigorous debate with Environmental Defence Society CEO Gary Taylor.  I saw a copy of these yesterday, I gather taken from a longer article at politik.co.nz (for those with access)

Twyford replied that it was a question of values. 

“This is for us, for Labour, for our coalition government, this is fundamentally a social justice issue. 

“Our objective is not to build a Copenhagen of the South Pacific. 

“We could build a beautiful city with a whole lot of the policies we have talked about. 

“We could build a Vancouver of the South Pacific; beautiful but utterly unaffordable. 

“I’m interested in us fixing this totally dysfunctional urban land economy.

 “If we don’t deal with affordability we will have completely wasted the opportunity that has been given to our generation.”  

Twyford said the only way to deal with the affordability issue was to deal with the land price issue and that meant dealing with the artificial scarcity of land caused by the planning system and the availability of finance for infrastructure.

My spirits lifted when I read that. I imagine it was the sort of thing Dr Brash has in mind when he talks about a degree of optimism that Labour might change things for the better.

But then there was the Cabinet paper pro-actively released last week on the government’s “Urban Growth Agenda”.   It was really only a progress report, with full papers to come back to Cabinet next year.  And there was some good –  if highly politically contentious –  stuff around congestion charging.  Near the top of the list of recommendations (all only noting ones) were these positives

note that the high cost and shortage of housing is partly due to deep seated problems with the operation of our urban land markets and how infrastructure is planned, funded, and financed.

note the Urban Growth Agenda will deliver medium to long-term changes to create the conditions for the market to respond to growth, bring down the high cost of urban land to improve housing affordability and support thriving communities.

But then, towards the end of the paper there were paragraphs 32 to 35, which some experts (in email chains I’ve been on) have seen as undermining any hope of a seriously different and better vision of how land markets might work.

How we could see growth occurring in practice
32. Growth enabled through the UGA would likely take a phased and sequenced approach targeting growth within existing urban centres before greenfield development.

33. For example, in Auckland we will firstly emphasise urban intensification and regeneration projects in existing areas, particularly along transport corridors and urban centres. Development in already planned greenfield areas would take place alongside this.

34. Our attention will then focus on new transit-oriented development occurring within existing nodes [a few words redacted at this point] . Development opportunities will be identified collaboratively with local government and other stakeholders.

35. Finally, new leap-frog greenfield development would be enabled beyond the current Future Urban Zone with a priority towards the South of Auckland. This step would be subject to new spatial planning and cost allocation tools to mitigate risks and ensure an efficient urban growth pattern occurs. The majority of this growth would be within Auckland’s existing administrative boundary.

All of which sounds a great deal like central and local government planners trying to keep control, determine where growth does and doesn’t happen, with little real sense of the possibilities that genuine competition (among potential developers and landowners) would open up.  In the entire Cabinet paper, there is no suggestion that we might move to a model in which landowners had a presumptive right to build.

I’m left still fondly hoping that Don Brash’s favourable judgement on the new government, in this particular area, will prove well-warranted, but also still more than a little sceptical.  Nothing like a crunch decision seems to have been faced yet, nothing that would really tell us whether the government will radically transform the market  –  and it really is a social justice issue, as Phil Twyford described it.   But there is one other test: the market test.  If landowners, actual and prospective, really believed that the government was serious, that it was going to implement the sort of vision Phil Twyford talked about so eloquently, land prices on the peripheries of our cities would be falling, and falling rather substantially (just as taxi badge prices in regulated cities abroad as competition finally opened up that previously-overregulated market). I’m not aware of any evidence of such falls, but if readers are please get in touch and I’d be happy to report such an encouraging development.

 

Massey Vice-Chancellor bans Don Brash

In many ways, it isn’t surprising that Massey University’s Vice-Chancellor has barred Don Brash from speaking on campus at an event organised by Massey students.   So-called “no-platforming”, in response to pressure of mobs –  often threatening disorder if a speaking engagement were to proceed – has become rather too common in the United States and in the UK.  It was only a matter of time until this practice arrived here, and perhaps almost a matter of chance which speaker/group would be the first victim.  As it happened the lot falls to a 77 year old former corporate chief executive, former Governor of the Reserve Bank, former MP and leader of the National Party invited, by a student politics group, to talk about his time as leader of the National Party (the party that has led governments in the country for 47 of the last 70 years).

And what offence has this lifelong New Zealander given to Massey’s Vice-Chancellor, an Australian who has lived in New Zealand for all of 18 months?  She tells us that her concern is

Mr Brash’s leadership of Hobson’s Pledge and views he and its supporters espoused in relation to Māori wards on councils

This is the group whose website outlines a vision

Our vision for New Zealand is a society in which all citizens have the same rights, irrespective of when we or our ancestors arrived. 

It might not be your vision, I’m somewhat ambivalent about it myself, but it clearly isn’t Professor Thomas’s view of the country.  Which probably shouldn’t really matter greatly because (a) she isn’t a citizen herself, and (b) because the nature of politics in a democratic country is about conflicting views, not just about means but also about ends.

But Professor Thomas appears to regard such views –  and opposition to Maori wards on local councils (which have been defeated in most/all places where a referendum has been held on them) –  as simply illegitimate, and having no place in New Zealand, let alone on the campus of Massey University, an organisation founded and substantially funded by the New Zealand government and taxpayers.  She was terrified that Dr Brash might make some negative comment about Maori wards on campus

Whether those views would have been repeated to students in the context of a discussion about the National Party may seem unlikely, but I have no way of knowing.

And presumably no one at the university she manages could cope with knowing that somewhere on campus, an elderly former politician was expressing a view they might disagree with –  a view which, on this particular occasion, appears to be held by a fairly large chunk of the population.

In a startling display of casual inaccuracy (one hopes not deliberate) Professor Thomas is also upset that Dr Brash was part of the Free Speech Coalition, that supported the right to be heard (in public premises), of two controversial recent Canadian visitors.  She claims

Dr Brash was also a supporter of right-wing Canadian speakers Lauren Southern and Stefan Molyneux, who were due to address a public meeting in Auckland.

Had she done any research at all, she would know that Dr Brash had indicated publicly that he had little or no knowledge of the views Southern and Molyneux had espoused but –  like left-wing activist Chris Trotter for example –  did not approve of public facilities being denied to people who wanted to use them to hear from visiting speakers, however much their views might be controversial or provocative. (Disclosure: I am part of the Free Speech Coalition myself, and as I noted in my earlier post on this issue, had never heard of either Southern or Molyneux until the Auckland Council banned use of its facilities, the mayor boasting –  inaccurately – that he had done so.)

For a private university to have banned such a meeting, and a speaker such as Dr Brash, would have been unwise and generally inconsistent with the sort of ethos universities generally sought to represent (contest of ideas etc).  But, being private institutions, they’d be quite free to make that choice.

But Massey is different: it is a public institution (establishment, funding, appointments to the council).  And if the (foreign) Vice-Chancellor of a public university thinks Dr Brash  –  who has given decades of public service to this country – shouldn’t be allowed to speak on campus, when invited by students (what, one wonders, would she do if one of the professors invited him to speak to a class?), you have to wonder who –  and which views –  are next in the line for a ban.  Dr Brash is prominent enough –  even if not always liked –  that there will be an outcry against his ban, while this sort of insidious censorship can be applied more broadly to less prominent people.

Professor Thomas really should be called into line, by her own Council (her employers), by the Minister of Education (funding agency), the Prime Minister (if she is at all serious about her claims to support free speech –  to her credit, I see she has come out a little critical of Professor Thomas).  But where, one might wonder, is the Leader of Opposition on this?  It is a pretty sorry picture if the leader of the National Party won’t forthrightly defend the right of students at Massey to hear from one of his predecessors about his own time as National Party leader.   Does he believe in free and open debate, notably at our universities, or doesn’t he?

As it happens, Professor Thomas had conveniently laid out her perspective on free speech a few weeks ago when the Southern/Molyneux debate was raging (and no one was talking about university facilities). In a lengthy Herald op-ed she sought to build her argument around the concept of “hate speech” –  a concept that, fortunately, still has no place in New Zealand law.  Even Professor Thomas can sound reasonable at times

Beyond the reach of the law, however, the battle against hate speech is fought most effectively through education and courageous leadership, rather than through suppression or legal censure.

And this is where universities can take positive action by providing a venue for reasoned discussion and cogent argument.

Which you might have thought could include a lecture to a student politics society by the former Leader of the Opposition, former Governor of the Reserve Bank?  But apparently not.

Perhaps she justifies her stance this way

Given the current dominance of wall-to-wall social media and the echo chambers of fake news, universities are in many ways obliged to make positive societal interventions.

But one can’t help suspecting that in this case she means “we need to put a stop to the expression of any views we disagree with”.   That certainly seems to be the practical import in the current case, and rather at odds with her very next sentence.

Universities support our staff and students to push boundaries, test the evidence that is put to them and challenge societal norms, including examining controversial and unpopular ideas.

Ah, perhaps it is only societal norms that (recent arrival) Professor Thomas disapproves of that should be challenged?  Certainly, from her op-ed and her statement today, she seems to think no space at all should be given to any debate around how, or how best, to think about the Treaty of Waitangi and its place in modern New Zealand.  Which would be outrageous coming from any university CEO, but perhaps all the more so from one fresh off the plane.

In her statement on the Brash case, Professor Thomas made passing reference to security concerns –  even though it is equally apparent from her statement that she was just looking for an excuse to ban the meeting (having put her prejudice against Don Brash on display in that earlier op-ed.    Her approach isn’t that of the courageous leader defending freedom and debate, but rather of aligning herself with the mob to veto the ability of student groups to invite speakers (ones uttering controversial views) to campus.  That sort of mobocracy, if allowed sway, would be the very antithesis of democracy as we’ve come to practice it in countries like ours (even Professor Thomas’s Australia) in the last couple of centuries.  Thugs and bullies rule, at the expense of those who respect the ability of decent people to disagree.   Thugs and bullies can come from either side of the political spectrum.  These days, in New Zealand (and other Anglo countries) they are almost all from the far-left.

(Much as I support what should be the freedom of the Massey student group to invite whoever they wish to have to speak to them (supported if necessary by the Police to keep law and order, and allow law-abiding citizens to go about their business), I increasingly wonder at the prospects for such a world.  Process liberalism –  you do your thing, I do mine, and we leave each other alone –  is very slender reed around which to organise any society, and I rather doubt it can hold: perhaps it will prove to have been just a very brief historical interlude as society moved from one set of largely shared beliefs to another.   Human societies seem to need more than just process rules to hold them together, and that process tends to involve the marginalisation or exclusion or forced suppression of minority views.  Since most of my own more important views these days are distinctly minority ones in modern New Zealand, I hope it isn’t true, but I suspect it is.  If so, of course, in New Zealand issues around the Treaty and Maori/non-Maori perspectives could prove a very nasty and dangerous fault line.)

NB  As I imagine all regular readers will know, Dr Brash was my boss in years past, and these days I count him as a friend.

UPDATE: So the most Chris Hipkins can say is that it isn’t the decision he would have made and the most the Prime Minister can do is call it an “over-reaction”.  In context, they are little more than weasel words, washing their own hands of owning responsibility, without full-throatedly condemning Professor Thomas and calling on her to reverse her decision.  Simon Bridges has described the ban as a disgrace.

 

Disconnected thoughts on the economy

I wrote a post a month or so go about some comparisons between the drop in business confidence after the previous Labour government took office at the end of 1999 and the current fall.   At the end of that post, I concluded that the current situation should probably be more concerning than the earlier episode which, intense as it was at the time, blew over fairly quickly.  Perhaps the biggest difference, I suggested, was around the exchange rate:

The current level is about 30 per cent higher than it was in 2000, and it had fallen a long way to get to those 2000 levels (and not on heightened risk concerns etc).  Those falls created a credible prospect of new business investment in the tradables sectors.  There is nothing comparable now, and we’ve probably exhausted the limits of domestic demand (especially residential investment) as a support for headline GDP growth.

The Reserve Bank’s TWI measure of the exchange rate has averaged about 74.4 this decade to date, with a standard deviation of about 3.7.   Thus, although the current TWI is now a bit lower (72.6) than it was at the time of last year’s election, in both cases the numbers were within one standard deviation of the mean.  Those sorts of fluctuations are often little more than noise.   There is nothing yet visible in the current government’s plans and policies that is likely to reverse the longer-term structural overvaluation of the exchange rate.

Another comparison I’ve seen in recent days is with early 2008.  Some of the business confidence measures are back to the sort of levels we saw in early 2008.  I saw one prominent journalist opining that “current conditions are nothing like 2008”.   No doubt true if one has in mind the final (global crisis) quarter of 2008, but in April/May 2008 –  when business confidence had weakened to similar levels to the present –  New Zealand was already in recession (so the published data tell us) but few people realised it.   Here, for example, was the Reserve Bank in June 2008, still asserting that GDP growth that year would be positive (and they weren’t alone in that view).

Another comparison relevant to making sense of business surveys (and the like) is population growth.    For better or worse (mostly worse, on my telling), the current population growth rate is still much higher –  at least twice as high – than it was in either 2000 or 2008.

popn growth aug 18

When the population is growing that rapidly, business surveys don’t mean the same thing as they would if (say) the population was flat.    A typical business survey will ask whether things are rising, falling, or much the same, and report the net of those saying higher and those saying lower.  With 2 per cent population growth, one should expect net positive responses even if per capita activity was going backwards a bit.   At present, 2 per cent annual GDP growth would be a really bad outcome.

At her post-Cabinet press conference yesterday, the Prime Minister seemed to be flailing.  She preferred, we were told, to look at real data to judge how things were going. Here is one such chart from my earlier post

gdp pc to mar 18

How have things been going on real GDP per capita? Not well, and that included late in the term of the previous government.  Perhaps there is some element of businesses slowly realising just how mediocre our economic performance has been.  Perhaps the Prime Minister –  who during the election campaign was too ready to grant that things were going well economically –  should wake up to the underperformance.

What about other real indicators?

The Prime Minister talks of our “low” unemployment rate, and yet seem conveniently oblivous to the fact that among the G7 leading advanced economies, the UK (Brexit and all), the US (Trump and all), Germany, and Japan all have unemployment rates lower than New Zealand’s.  Ours is better than it was, but it is nothing much to be proud of –  roughly one in 20 New Zealanders keen to get a job, ready to start work next week, can’t find one (and that is narrowest definition of excess labour capacity).    Labour would once, rightly, have regarded that as pretty shameful.

There has been very little growth in productivity at all for five or six years now, and last week’s labour market data (showing quite reasonable employment/hours growth, even as no one expects stellar GDP growth this quarter) suggests the trend has continued.   And for all that we are suppposed to be impressed by yet another board, this time to consult on trade agreements (chaired by a competent former diplomat who now works for the propaganda arm of MFAT/NZTE, the New Zealand China Council), the reality remains one in which exports (and imports) as a share of GDP have been shrinking not rising.  That isn’t how things go in successful economies.

exports aug 18

Business investment has been weak too, especially once one takes account of the needs of a rapidly rising population.

The Prime Minister tell us that in a speech later this week the Minister of Finance will outline how the government expects things to be turned around, with our economy becoming more productive, more outward-oriented etc.  I will, I’m sure, read the speech with interest, but there is little sign that anyone near the top of government really has a sense of what might make a useful and substantial difference to the medium-term performance of the New Zealand economy.  You will, for example, never hear them talk of a real exchange rate out of line with the relative productivity performance of the New Zealand economy, or show any understanding of how that might come about.  In practice, they seem wedded to much the same failed economic strategy as the previous government –  notably the “big New Zealand” rapid inward migration strand –  made worse, at least in prospect, by things ranging from large increases in minimum wages to aggressive headlong pursuit of net-zero emissions targets with not a decent cost-benefit analysis in sight.   Whatever the merits of, say, capital gains taxes or R&D tax credits (and I’m not persuaded of either), they simply aren’t game-changing stuff.

One of the uncertainties about New Zealand economic data is what happens to the outflow of New Zealanders (mostly to Australia).   Because the wage differentials are so large, the normal state of affairs is for the outflow to be quite large.   Those income and productivity gaps haven’t closed in recent years –  if anything they’ve widened –  and as the Australian labour market has recovered, the outflow of New Zealanders has been picking up again.  If things remain more positive across the Tasman we can expect that trend (growing outflow) to continue.  If so, it might dampen activity here a bit further, offset by the increased sales New Zealand firms can make in a better-performing Australian economy.  Then again, business confidence measures in Australia don’t seem stellar at present either (the latest manufacturing PMI number is very similar to that in New Zealand).

I try to largely avoid economic forecasting.  Mostly, it is a mug’s game (the future, beyond perhaps a couple of quarters ahead, is basically unknowable), and it is a very rare forecaster who will prove right for the right reasons (and more than randomly so).  Perhaps the economy will weaken from here –  there is a lot running against it, and not much for it – but perhaps not.    But what really disconcerts me is that lack of much sign of serious thinking of how the next serious downturn –  which will happen, it is only a matter of when – should be handled.   That sort of complacency, especially in officialdom, was never really excusable even when things seemed a bit more buoyant – after all, we pay these people (so they tell us) to take a rather longer-term view.  But it is even more worrying now.   The official view that interest rates would soon move higher again has been falsified by experience, year after year.

As a reminder, the OCR now is 1.75 per cent.  That is lower than official interest rates were in every country in the world, bar Japan, going into the last recession (our own OCR was 8.25 per cent then).  The Reserve Bank tells us that they agree the OCR probably can’t usefully be cut below about -0.75 per cent, which just isn’t that far away –  even if people have been lulled by almost a decade in which the OCR has been in a range of 1.75 per cent to 3.5 per cent.

We’ve had a new Governor now for 4.5 months, and have not had a single substantive speech from him on monetary policy (his only on-the-record speech notes have been about climate change, for which he has no responsibility at all).  And, of course, we’ve heard nothing on these issues (and threats) from the Minister of Finance or the Secretary to the Treasury.    And while there is lots of talk of how much fiscal room New Zealand supposedly has, remember that revenues will drop away quite quickly in the next recession, the NZSF will be booking big losses, and the political process will almost inevitably balk at really large, repeated, fiscal stimulus.  For those doubting that, look at the political limits to fiscal stimulus in the last US recession, or the UK, or….well, almost anywhere.

But if our officials and politicians are letting us down, the contribution of the leading market economists doesn’t seem to be any better.  I’ve read the MPS previews (for this week’s RB announcement) of three of the four main banks, and not one seems to devote any space to the “what if” questions.   They all seem to believe that we’ll get through the current confidence dip in reasonable shape, and so the real question is when the OCR will be raised.  Perhaps they will be right about that.   Perhaps too they are mainly interested in foreshadowing what the Governor might say or do this week (and he and his institution have been pretty complacent for a long time).  But what if things don’t work out fine?  What if we do find ourselves in a recession in the next 12 or 18 months?  And how best should we think about the probabilities, and about the best possible policy responses, given the uncertainties and the very real limits of the OCR instrument much beyond the current level?  It doesn’t seem to be something our leading market economists even want to address.

(My own view isn’t an unconditional forecast, but a conditional statement: if there is an OCR change in the next 12 months it will be a cut.)

There is a serious need for some hard thinking, and sober realisation, about the disappointing performance of the New Zealand economy.  It would be a shame if the current downturn in business confidence (whatever specific mix of factors, political  and otherwise, is driving it) were just used for another round of patting people on the head, and reassuring them “don’t worry, after all, we are one of the best-performing economies in the world”.  In truth, we are anything but, and nothing either of our main political parties has to offer gives any reason to expect change for the better.

 

Net-zero carbon emissions: a “massive economic boost”?

James Shaw, co-leader of the Green Party and Minister for Climate Change (surely Minister against it?), tells us he is working his way through 15000 submissions on the recent climate change consultation document.  I’ve done a couple of posts here on the document, and on the NZIER modelling used extensively in it, and I’ve chided both the Minister and his department, NZIER, and the Productivity Commission for simply ignoring the fact that our large-scale non-citizen immigration policy is a discretionary policy measure that drives up New Zealand’s carbon emissions, further increasing the economic cost of any variant of a “net-zero” target the government might choose to adopt.   But I didn’t make a submission: there are only so many hours in the week, and it seems pretty clear from some recent broadcast remarks from the Minister that he thinks his own Ministry (for the Environment) is altogether too pessimistic.   A net-zero target is, he claims, a huge economic opportunity for New Zealand.   Never mind that there is precisely no analysis to support such a claim.

In any good policy development process, one wants to see evidence of a proper cost-benefit analysis having been undertaken.    What is the value of the benefits of any actions it is proposed to take, what are the costs of those actions themselves, how uncertain are each of those sets of numbers, and (not unimportantly) how might those costs and benefits change if we were simply to wait a while, or respond gradually (in ways that might, for example, give us more data).     That sort of analysis –  with inevitable imprecisions –  is perhaps all the more important when crusaders are champing at the bit to launch a really major, far-reaching, change in our economy and society, and one with –  on the government’s own numbers –  really big, adverse (ie falling most heavily on the poorest) distributional effects.

The government consultation document, drawing on the NZIER modelling (with all its limitations), did attempt to outline the costs of adopting a net-zero by 2050 emissions target.  The Ministry, in particular, was keen to play down the numbers, but they did report them: best estimates from NZIER were for a loss of GDP of 10 to 22 per cent (ie lower than otherwise).   As I noted in my earlier post, I doubt any democratic government has ever consulted on a proposal to reduce the wealth and incomes of its citizens by quite so much.

But the consultation document made no attempt to assess the economic costs (if any) to New Zealand, and New Zealanders, from the sort of climate change that is likely to occur in the absence of (global) policy responses.   There doesn’t seem to be any such analysis that has been done anywhere in, or for, the New Zealand public sector.   Former Treasury and MBIE official (and now a consultant) Jim Rose highlighted this in a recent Dominion-Post op-ed.

Estimates of the cost of global warming as a percentage of GDP to New Zealand are elusive. I drew a nil response when I asked for that information from James Shaw, the Minister for Climate Change, and from the Ministry for the Environment. Both said such an estimate was too hard to calculate.

As he notes

Fortunately, the OECD rose to the challenge in its 2015 report on The Economic Consequences of Climate Change.

Rose included this chart, drawing on the OECD’s modelling work

climate change 2

Very cold countries are expected to see an economic gain from climate change over the next few decades, and for temperate climate countries it looks like roughly a wash.  New Zealand is modelled with Australia, but Australia is a much hotter country, and it seems quite quite reasonable to suppose that the New Zealand numbers is isolation would be basically zero.  Given the importance of agriculture in our economy, and that warmer temperatures would improve crop yields etc in many areas, some overall economic gain seems not implausible.

Now, it is quite reasonable to point out that, in some respects, 2060 isn’t that far away, and climate effects seem to be slow to unfold.  So the OECD –  hardly a bunch of climate change sceptics – also did some modelling on the effects out to 2100.  This is from their Executive Summary

climate exec summary

Presumably the adverse effects still differ quite markedly by geographic region.  But notice two things.  First, this OECD modelling suggests that some of these modelled costs are now sunk costs anyway (would happen even if emissions fall to zero as soon as 2060).  And second, and more importantly, recall the range of economic costs to New Zealand of adopting a net-zero (by 2050) target: 10 to 22 per cent of GDP.  In other words, even if New Zealand were exposed to economic costs of climate change at the upper end of the OECD estimates (10 per cent of GDP by 2100), it still wouldn’t be economically worthwhile to pay a price of 10 to 22 per cent of GDP 50 years earlier to prevent such outcomes.  That is basically what the government’s own numbers say.

And it is all even worse than that.   After all, on these OECD estimates, getting to net-zero (globally) by 2060 would only prevent half the losses.   And since much of modelled adjustment in New Zealand relies on sequestration (planting lots and lots of new forests, almost exclusively on land not currently used for economic purposes) –  and that can really only be done once –  it isn’t implausible to suppose that the economic costs of maintaining net zero emissions beyond 2050 would only increase further.

But somehow none of this –  material from his own ministry, from their consultants, or from the OECD –  seems to have any impact on the Minister.   He tries to draw strange parallels with the internet

“I think the New Zealand of 2050 will look as similar and as different as the New Zealand of today does to the New Zealand that we had 30 years ago. You’ve got to remember 30 years ago, the same period of time that we’re talking about, the internet did not exist. Didn’t exist, right? But you try and run your school or your home or your community group or your business without the internet today, it’s unimaginable.

“The internet has had a profound impact on our economy, on our lives. Whole new industries have been built off the back of it… but the New Zealand of today still feels in many ways a bit like the New Zealand of 1988.”

All of which is largely true (and the further into middle-age you are, the more 1988 seems like yesterday anyway), but irrelevant.   The internet (and associated applications) has been a series of new technologies that have materially changed elements of peoples’ lives.  But that is (largely) private sector innovation, and consumer adoption (or not) of the opportunities and technologies.    Perhaps a more important comparison the Minister might like to reflect on are areas of demonstrable underperformance since 1988? Our economy (per capita) is better off than in 1988. But, for example, we’ve had among the very worst rates of productivity growth of an advanced country in that 30 year period.  Productivity is what opens up options to deal with poverty and all those social issues the Greens say they care about.   Or house prices – which have moved from more or less affordable to highly unaffordable in large chunks of the country (largely as a result of well-intentioned policy choices by people with noble aspirations).

Just like James Shaw and the government of which he is now a part.  This is what he says about the economics of his proposed net-zero target

He says investing in meeting our climate change goals will be a massive economic boost, rather than a burden.

“What we’re talking about here is a more productive economy, with higher-tech, higher-valued, higher-paid jobs. It’s clearly a cleaner economy where you’ve got lower health care costs, people living in warmer homes, congestion-free streets in Auckland.

“It’s an upgrade to our economy. It’s an investment, you’ve got to put something in, in order to generate that return. If we don’t, the clean-up costs from the impacts of climate change will well exceed the costs of the investment we’ve got to make to avoid the problem in the first place.”

But where is his analysis?  Where are his numbers in support of this?   There is nothing of the sort in the consultation document, or in the NZIER modelling.   Without something of that sort –  tracing through the mechanisms he expcts to see these effects –  this is all dreamtime stuff, arguably either delusional or worse.   There is nothing to demonstrate why we should take seriously the Minister’s claim that markedly shifting pricing (or using regulation to the same end) against key sources of energy, and skewing pricing against our handful of large internationally competitive industries (even, unlikely at this stage, if our competitors were going to do the same thing) would mean we’d all end richer (“massively” so apparently) than if the government hadn’t adopted such policies.  It simply doesn’t ring true.

Perhaps the Minister is (deliberately?) confusing two things.   The centuries-long era of technological innovation shows no sign of having ended.  There will be technologies 50 years from now that few of us can even dream of today.  In some cases, they may leave our grandchildren considerably wealthier than we are.  In some cases, they are likely to markedly ease the costs of adjusting away from an economic structure that involves large-scale carbon emissions. But that is a quite different thing from supposing/assuming that heavy government intervention, of the sort the government is proposing, will itself make us all a lot richer.  And, as I’ve noted previously, even the NZIER modelling numbers already assume into existence big improvements in technology, in turn assuming away what would otherwise be very large economic costs of adjustment.

Perhaps those technology assumptions will themselves prove to conservative.  But wouldn’t we be a lot better off waiting to see how the technological opportunities unfold, rather than racing ahead, wishing upon a star, when –  on the OECD’s own numbers, the economic costs to New Zealanders of waiting appear likely to be modest (at worst).   And lets no forget –  and in any circumstances the Green Party rightly wouldn’t let us do so –  the distributional impact the government’s own commissioned modelling revealed.

emissions distribution

Six times as heavy a burden on the bottom 20 per cent as on the highest-income 20 per cent.  Six times.

In his enthusiasm for rushing ahead, beyond any sort of current international commitment, James Shaw cites public opinion

“New Zealanders do want us to lead on climate change. They think our response so far has been inadequate. They think that New Zealand should act even if other countries don’t,” he told Newshub Nation on Saturday, citing a recent survey by IAG.

That survey showed while three-quarters of Kiwis think New Zealand should take action even if other countries don’t, only one in 10 percent think the rest of the world will.

More details of that survey (or not the exact wording of the questions, probably rather leading given the commercial virtue-signalling purposes it appears to have been  commissioned for) are here.

Public opinion matters, a lot.  The public elect, and oust, governments.  But what proportion of the public does the Minister honestly suppose has any sense –  even the vaguest sense – of the sort of cost-benefit calculus implicit in combining the OECD estimates (economic costs of climate change) with his government’s own published estimates of the costs of fast New Zealand moves to zero emissions?   And the fact that the answer is likely to be well under 5 per cent isn’t really an adverse reflection on the public –  ignorant voters and all that –  but a reflection on our political parties and official/bureaucratic classes, which have fallen over themselves to avoid sharing such perspectives more widely.  The feel-good response to the end-of-the-world-is-nigh rhetoric is hard to stand against; easier to go with the flow, and if anything cheer it on.  But pointing out this pretty basic considerations –  and they aren’t hard arguments to explain –  should perhaps be something political leaders (if the word “leader” means more than just holding office) should do.

My former colleage Ian Harrison, now at Tailrisk Economics, makes a bit of a speciality of digging more deeply into some of the dubious claims that government ministries, and the like, often make (a collection of his papers is here).    He has been digging into some of the claims, and the modelling, regarding possible New Zealand emissions targets, and sent me the other day a draft of a paper he is working on, with permission to share a few excerpts.

Ian’s draft paper draws attention (more than I have, and more than the report itself does) to the pretty significant reductions in exports in the NZIER modelling.   It seems unlikely that a small economy doing less trade with the rest of the world is going be achieving a “massive boost” to prosperity.    Ian also draws attention to a point I’ve also made in earlier posts, about where the new forests are likely to go.  NZIER assumes that the new forests are on land that currently has little or no economic use.  But if agriculture is brought into an ETS (even partially and gradually) and there are substantial carbon credits from forestry sequestration, we could see a large amount of existing farmland converted to forestry.  Whatever the possible merits of such a conversion, it would further reduce exports over the decades in which the trees were growing, which in turn would be likely to have implications for the exchange rate (something not dealt with in the NZIER modelling at all).

Ian also draws attention to the way in which both the IPCC’s most recent report on Australasia (a summary of the New Zealand bits is here) does not support the notion that the economic impacts of global warming itself “would be strongly negative, or at least negative at all” this century.  He draws attention to a 2012 Ministry of Primary Industries report on the impact of climate change on land-based sectors.

The main purpose of the report was to look at adaptation and resilience issues rather than make an overall assessment of the economic costs and benefits, but two major themes suggest that the overall impact would be positive. The first is that C02 fertilisation will have a major positive impact. The second is that New Zealand farmers are very good at adapting both tactically and more strategically to climate events, which would help mitigate some of the adverse impacts, which are in any event, less quantitatively significant.

Recall that the assumed warming over the 21st is less than the temperature difference between Invercargill and Auckland (and, even setting aside growing conditions, most people would count such a shift as an improvement in the amenity value of their location –  certainly true of Wellington).

Much of the thrust of Ian’s paper is scepticism about the case –  touted by the government, with public opinion support for the time being –  for acting early and aggressively.   One argument made in official papers is that acting early reduces the risk of later sudden drastic shocks, but the basic logic of this argument seems flawed, given the absence of technology to deal with some of the major sources of New Zealand emissions.

Logic would suggest that in New Zealand more time would reduce those risks. In particular, reducing animal methane emissions per animal is challenging and will take time. The NZIER report shows that if we pursue a zero emissions target without a technical solution the impact on the pastoral sector would be devastating with output falling by 70 percent, from baseline projections, by 2050.

Another argument is that by acting early by will get economic advantages from being early into emerging technologies.

This argument is overblown and reflects wishful thinking rather than hard analysis. The reduction in emissions will not involve (much) marketable technological innovation. We will mainly grow more trees. The rest of the world already knows how to do that. We will import electric cars leveraging off innovation elsewhere.  Norway has been an earlier adopter of electric cars but no one has suggested that Norway has innovated to produce better electric cars.  We may close down some carbon intensive industries such as iron and steel and cement manufacturing. Painful, but doesn’t require much innovation that we can sell to the rest of the world.

And then, of course, there is the incredible “moral leadership” argument, recently also advanced –  stepping well out of his field –  by the Reserve Bank Governor.

Again this is wishful thinking. Does anyone seriously expect the countries that matter: the US, China and India, to be influenced by what New Zealand does.

And if, in some sense, rich countries probably should take some sort of lead in dealing with global problems

It is generally accepted that the rich countries should take the lead in reducing greenhouse emissions. However, New Zealand is not really a rich country, sitting on the margin of being an upper middle-income country. This weakens the case for New Zealand bearing a disproportionate share of the mitigation burden, particularly if the result is to push us more firmly into middle-income territory.

And there is a reminder of the elephant in the room that not even the Greens seem yet to be willing to address. Emissions from international travel and shipping aren’t in the international emissions numbers, but it doesn’t change the facts.   There are no good alternative technologies are present, and yet international shipping and aviation are probably more important to New Zealand (given distance, and being an island) than for most advanced countries.

Setting out to, in some sense, “lead the world” in this area is a recipe for severely impairing the future living standards of our own people.   Perhaps the warm inner glow of the “feel good” –  which would no doubt linger long among Greens supporters, well after most New Zealanders were living with the economic consequences –  should be added to Treasury wellbeing dashboard?  But it is likely to take an awfully large amount of “feel good” to compensate for the lost opportunities –  for rich and poor alike –  of wilfully giving up 10 to 22 per cent of future GDP (on the government’s own numbers).

Victoria University of Wellington

The proposal to change the name of Victoria University (dropping “Victoria” and just leaving the institution as University of Wellington) probably doesn’t get much attention in the rest of the country.  But here it has excited quite a flurry of interest, with thousands signing petitions opposing to the planned change.  Graduates and staff seem to have been particularly vocal, amid reminders of the ancient conception of universities in which graduates are forever, in some sense, “members” of the university.

I graduated from Victoria, some decades ago.  I suppose I do still feel a vague warm fuzzy sense of association with the place, and have even done the odd lecture there over the years.   But even that association probably has more to do with a career spent at the Reserve Bank which has long had reasonably strong associations with Victoria.  I suppose I have fairly happy memories of my time as a students (low fees, universal student allowances and all that), but I was living at home and Victoria was never the centre of my life.  So, equally, I can’t summon a great deal of analytical or emotional energy to object to the latest plans of the corporate bureaucrats who now run the degree factory.

This proposal seems to be all about money.  Money isn’t unimportant, of course.  But the bureaucrats claim that simply changing the name of the institution will somehow boost the institution’s prestige, and in turn boost their international student numbers by up to 850 a year  (I don’t have the numbers at my fingertips, but that must be a fairly large percentage –  actually, on checking a 25 per cent increase).  Something doesn’t really ring true.

The university has published various papers in support of its proposal.  One is some market research conducted by people in various countries who might be of a stage to consider foreign study, as well as some interviews with international agents (presumably advising potential students).

The agents apparently noted that university name might matter a bit at the beginning of a search process but

Agents think as students do more research, name becomes less important as the students rely on university rankings and the agents to identify universities.

Which seems about as rational as one might expect.

The market research people also asked how much various factors matter in deciding where to study.  These were the top seven, all of which seem (again) strikingly sensible.  The name of the institution doesn’t –  as one might expect – matter very much at all.

vuw

There was also an interesting page about the name options that were market-tested

Three names tested well: National University of New Zealand, New Zealand National University, and University of New Zealand, Wellington. When presented in isolation students preferred National University of New Zealand or New Zealand National University. However, when presented with other factors (in the choice modelling task), University of New Zealand, Wellington produced the greatest increase in preference. We think this is because having the city name in a contextualised decision making task provided the students with more information to base their decision on.

The impact of the names on preference for Victoria differed by country, for example changing the name to New Zealand National University would increase preference by 6.2 percentage points amongst Chinese students but drop it 1.9 percentage points amongst American students.

Nothing like grandiose ambitions from the Vice-Chancellor: National University of New Zealand indeed!   From an establishment that trails far behind Auckland in the international rankings, and which would have no claim at all to a title “National” (although one can see why foreign students might be misled if such a title had been adopted).

The corporate bureaucrats are keen to stress that Victoria University of Wellington isn’t a very old name –  and indeed it isn’t (we had the University of New Zealand, with (mostly) various constituent colleges (thus Victoria University College) until about 60 years ago).   That in itself is hardly good grounds to scrap a well-established name (and, as their material also notes, this is apparently the third or fourth time they’ve tried to change the name).

As various observers have pointed out, there are many universities around the world with names that (in isolation) give you no clue about where they are located (unlike Victoria University of Wellington, or VUW). I just had a look at one list of global universities: by my count, 7 of the top 25 in that list had names that didn’t tell directly of specific location.  One could add the Sorbonne, Imperial College, Notre Dame, Brown, McMaster, and the list would run on without limit.     Perhaps the difference here, if there is one at all, is that Victoria University of Wellington is just not that good a university?   That wouldn’t change by trying to jettison a historical name.    If anything, if location-based titles really matter a fig, there is probably a stronger case to consider change for Wellington’s other university (Massey), except of course that it is a multi-campus operation.

But, to be honest, the thing that surprises me a little is how many Wellington liberals have come out to defend the name: empire, colonisation, and all the rest being more than a little out of fashion, and no name being more emblematic of the British Empire and its colonial foundations than Victoria.  Why, even the local newspaper has an editorial this morning calling for the name to be kept –  the same newspaper that only weeks ago was weighing in strongly supporting the Wellington City Council’s Maori strategy, prioritising Maori street names, jettisoning old names for civic features, jettisoning Guy Fawkes for  Matariki, and aiming for some sort of bilingual city by 2040 (a city with one of the smallest proportion of Maori in New Zealand).    The Dominion-Post is keen to preserve its social justice warrior credentials, so gratuitously compares Queen Victoria to Lenin and Stalin (eponymous cities in Russia now renamed), but still somewhat surprisingly it ends on a note of “Stick with Vic”.

There seems to be a huge amount of guilt, perhaps even shame, about our heritage among the Wellington (and no doubt non-Wellington) liberals. I’m a bit surprised our mayor and his deputy haven’t been out campaigning not just to drop “Victoria” from the university name, but to replace it with primarily a Maori name.  Perhaps University of Te Whanganui-a-Tara (the Maori name for Wellington harbour)? After all, the Duke of Wellington is hardly someone today’s liberals will admire.  Or calling for Mt Victoria to be renamed (or its scrubby companion on whose lower slopes I’m typing this, Mt Albert).  Not content with having relegated the city’s statue of Queen Victoria to the remote fringe of the inner city decades ago, some of them are probably keen to junk it altogether.  These days Victoria University includes what used to be the teachers’ college, and primary school teachers now seem to see it as their goal to make kids rather ashamed of their heritage (my 11 year old is doing colonisation at the moment, and we have long discussions in which I remind her that, for all its faults and failings (captured in her little hand-drawn poster above the dinner table marking “exploitation, murder and robbery”), New Zealand was –  and in many respects still is –  one of the finest countries in the world).  These days an increasing number of official government agencies aren’t even content to leave the country with its proper name, New Zealand, slipping in an “Aotearoa” whenever they can.

As I say, I’m a bit puzzled at the way the liberals have emerged to defend the Victoria name for the university.  I’m pleased they have, but even if somehow they win this time, I can’t imagine the success will last long.  Even if Professor Guilford himself is simply after more money, and an implausible increase in foreign student numbers, it surely won’t be long until the crusaders will be coming for any names associated with our colonial heritage, Victoria University of Wellington among them.

Two scattered things

There seemed something strangely apt about the power going out on a lecture about the current Treasury/government craze for “wellbeing”

(Having said which, I expected the lecture itself would be interesting and stimulating –  Arthur usually is even when, as often, I disagree with him.  I hope it is rescheduled.)

Out of the blue the other day, I received a copy of a new book by Simon Burnett, a New Zealand journalist resident in Germany, about an episode in recent New Zealand financial history that I’d almost entirely forgotten.

Blunder: How ANZ and ING squandered 800 million dollars in a Wall Street casino—and ignited a revolt of small-time investors

As the blurb puts it

Between 2003 and early 2008, fifteen thousand financially illiterate people in New Zealand were persuaded to invest their savings in packages of hyper-speculative securities. They were told that these were safe alternatives to bank deposits. The investments crashed. The shell-shocked investors, mostly elderly and risk-averse and in no position to recover from financial disaster, banded together, formed a national committee, set up regional groups, took the battle on to the streets, and won.
The securities, known as CDOs, were packed into two mutual funds (or unit trusts) managed by the New Zealand arm of the Dutch financial giant, ING. Its joint-venture partner and half owner, the Australia and New Zealand Banking Group (ANZ), was a major sales agent. When the CDOs tanked and the funds tanked with them, the ANZ and ING began a desperate cover up, blaming unforeseen circumstances. This was baloney and the investors knew it.

and

This is the story of the biggest, most sustained, investor revolt in New Zealand history, told not by a financial expert but by one of the ANZ/ING investors who himself took part in demonstrations. The author unravels the financial complexities that neither the ANZ nor ING apparently were aware of.
The scandal was regional, but the lesson is universal: it illustrates just what can happen when financial institutions do not check what they are investing in and pass on the risks to unsuspecting customers.
Financial commentator and economist Gareth Morgan wrote that, “For anyone investing their savings with the financial sector in New Zealand—especially with some of the biggest brands in the business—I commend this book to you as a good background on what you can expect if you do not do your homework.”

I haven’t read the book, but hope to.  Too few of the episodes in our economic and financial history are well-documented, and if this book makes some contribution to such a literature I welcome it.

Gareth Morgan has written the preface to the book.  There are plenty of things I disagree with Gareth about, notably financial regulation.  But he has been around, and his willingness to write the preface suggests there is something to the book, as a story, even if you don’t go as far as he does on policy.  Here is some of Gareth’s view.

And in New Zealand there is a sequel. In a flurry of belated regulatory responses to events here—not just the ANZ/ING debacle, but also the mass destruction through the finance company sector—a licensing regime is being brought down on financial advisers and a rewrite of the Securities Act is being attempted in order to rein in the malfeasance.
But industry’s capture of the regulator is so complete that the financial adviser
regulations are little more than window dressing. Not one of the offences committed by this sector during the GFC would have been prevented under the licensing requirements that are being implemented —indeed the worst offenders have been exempted most of the qualifying requirements the Code Committee for Financial Advisers has implemented.

There are no grounds whatsoever for the public to increase its confidence in this sector, no chance the new regulations will ensure it has a duty of care to it, and the book “Blunder II” will be required in a few years to outline why the malpractice has continued.

And were the FMA to ever investigate such an episode, we were reminded again this week that they can arbitrarily slap suppression orders on, stopping people talking about thet directly affects them and their customers –  even stop them talking to parliamentary committees.

I’m pretty ambivalent on Nicky Hager too, but here is some of his endorsement

“This is why Simon Burnett has done a great service in writing this book: explaining an important New Zealand story as part of the world-wide crisis, distilling the lessons and holding ING, ANZ and their senior staff to account. He has done a huge amount of work to piece the story together and to make it into an interesting, readable book. It is also pleasing that he tells the story of the ordinary investors who complained and fought and protested, in the face of misleading information and resistance from the respectable sounding companies involved, until they found out the truth and got some justice. The book is a fine piece of investigative journalism.”

The book looks to be well-documented, and from the bits I dipped into seems to read easily enough. I suspect I would probably part company from the author on any policy implications, but probably not on the ethics of what went on.

UPDATE: In a comment below the author notes:

At the moment, the book is exclusively on Amazon as an eBook. A paperback is scheduled for the end of August. Anyone who wants to can get a PDF copy from me free. Just email me at frozenfunds08@googlemail.com.

Confucius Institutes, the PRC, and all that

Last week there were screenings in Auckland and Wellington of Canadian journalist and filmmaker Doris Liu’s documentary “In the Name of Confucius” .  Each screening was followed by a Q&A session with the filmmaker herself, who has been on a bit of a roadshow promoting the film (which is funded by the Canada Media Fund) and its message (which has now also been screened at the British Parliament and at various parliaments in Australia).

From the promotional material

Culture. Language. Power.  On average, China opens one Confucius Institute per week in partnership with school boards and academic institutions around the world, with a goal of opening 1000 by 2020.  Yet, a growing number of schools are also starting cut ties with the program, alarmed by concerns ranging from human rights violations, financial incentives and censored content to national security and espionage.

In the Name of Confucius is a one-hour documentary about the Chinese government’s multi-billion dollar Confucius Institute (CI) program and the growing global controversy at academic institutions around the world as scholars, parents and others question the program’s political influence and purpose.

The Confucius Institute (CI) programme began in 2004, and there are now three of them in New Zealand (made possible as part of the 2008 China-New Zealand “Free Trade” Agreement), one each at Auckland, Victoria and Canterbury universities.  Given the substantial amounts of money involved –  the universities get to extensively leverage their brand with PRC money –  and the sensitivities of the PRC authorities on all manner of things (try the Rockhampton fish story for example), it was to the credit of Victoria University that they allowed their facilities to be used for the Wellington screening, even with the strange disclaimer that “This external event does not necessarily reflect the views, thoughts and opinions of the university”.    Perhaps naively, I’d associated universities with the contest of ideas, evidence etc, rather than with any single view held by “the university”.

(Reflecting an official PRC perspective, the film featured a clip of the head of Hanban –  the PRC government agency responsible for the CI programme –  stating that the CIs meant that it was “like foreign universities work for us”.)

The documentary centres on two main Canadian stories.  The first was the defection of a Mandarin language assistant (the main strand of what CIs do), Sonia Zhao, whose defection and subsequent human rights complaint (based on the then formal PRC prohibition of anyone with Falun Gong connections being a Mandarin language assistant) contributed to the closure of the Confucius Institute at McMaster University in Ontario.   Zhao herself had been a Falun Gong practitioner who, on her telling, had been unaware of the prohibition until presented with her draft contract, and was then fearful of imprisonment or other punishment in China.    She recounted the instructions the assistants received that –  in Canadian government classrooms –  they should avoid issues like Taiwan and Tibet, change the subject if possible, and otherwise parrot the Party line.

The second story was around the battle, ultimately successful, to convince the Toronto public schools system (apparently the third largest in North America) to end its association with the Confucius Institute/Confucius classroom programme.  It featured rather gruesome footage of little Canadian kids singing a song, drawn from CI resources provided by the PRC authorities for Toronto schools, in praise of Chairman Mao “leading his people forward” (no mention presumably of the tens of millions of deaths ascribed directly to government choices?).

The section focused on the Toronto debate featured footage of vociferous protests outside the meetings (on both sides, mostly from the ethnic Chinese community, with those in favour of the CI programme apparently organised by other PRC front organisations), some pretty arrogant bureaucrats (including one who had clearly enjoyed being “wined and dined” –  his words –  by Beijing), and some dramatic footage of the impassioned debate at meetings of the school district board of trustees.    There were the competing perspectives: one Chinese immigrant tried to claim that Tibet’s status was really just like Quebec’s.  That sparked a feisty response from one trustee about the possibilities for independence referenda in Tibet, to which the response was ‘oh, we don’t need referenda, because we know no one wants independence”.    And, on the other side, other ethnic Chinese noted that for all the CI claims to promote Chinese culture, it was the Communist Party which had set out to destroy so much of Chinese culture.     At the end there was an overwhelming vote (20 for, 2 against) to end the Toronto school district’s association with the Confucius programme.

The documentary was primarily about the Confucius Institute programme.  But it was also –  particularly through the lens of the Sonia Zhao story –  about the brutal and systematic PRC persecution of the Falun Gong.    The filmmaker –  herself a Chinese immigrant to Canada only about 10 years ago – has some involvement with Falun Gong herself, and indicated that she has family members back in the PRC who are active practitioners. One could only admire her courage in speaking out, although wondering about the risks she might be exposing her family still in the PRC to.

Here is an extract from a pamphlet Falun Gong people were distributing in central Wellington last week

falun gong

Or you could read an Australian (ABC) article.

This is the sort of regime that we allow to put its people into our schools.

Falun Gong isn’t, to put it mildly, my cup of tea.  But that isn’t the point.   States shouldn’t get to compel, or proscribe, religious/spiritual practices in this day and age (cuius regio, eius religio was from hundreds of years ago) and, when they nonetheless still choose to do so, we should not be actively aligning ourselves with such regimes (one could add regimes like Saudi Arabia to such a list), let alone allowing them to put (ideological “sound”, politically safe) people in our schools.   The PRC has now removed the explicit prohibition on Falun Gong people from the websites describing these Mandarin language assistant roles, but it makes no practical difference, given that the practice of Falun Gong is prohibited in the PRC and the government actively persecutes (and in some cases, it appears, murders) practitioners.

As it happens, and to her credit, the director of Victoria University’s Confucius Institute attending the screening of “In the name of Confucius” in Wellington.  Rebecca Needham was, until recently, a fairly senior MFAT official, including former New Zealand Consul-General to Guangzhou.  As I noted recently, in the weird conflation of roles and interests that swirls around Wellington over the PRC relationship, even though her current job (directly on the payroll of Victoria University) involves implementing a programme largely funded by the PRC, she is still shown on the MFAT website as one of the group of public sector experts on China (the only non public servant on the list).

When it came to the Q&A session, Needham made a couple of points:

  • to the extent that events were portrayed accurately in the film, they bore no resemblance to the way the Confucius Institute at Victoria (or others in NZ) were run, and
  • that the Victoria Confucius Institute was completely transparent and non-political.

Since I had met her once before, and she had then volunteered a willingness to talk and answer questions, I emailed her and asked whether she could be specific about any differences in how the New Zealand CIs were run, and whether there were any prohibitions on Falun Gong teaching assistants.

She invited me to come and talk it over, and we met in her office yesterday. Despite her offer to talk, she was clearly a bit uneasy about talking to me, and so I offered to keep her remarks off-the-record, and simply use them as background to my own descriptions etc.  In the course of the discussion, Tony Browne – former New Zealand Ambassador to China, chair of the Confucius Institute and senior consultant (unpaid) to Hanban (the PRC agency behind Confucius Institutes –  dropped in.  I’ve also written previously about the multiple hats Browne wears.

To recap, the main focus of the Confucius Institute, despite its location in a university, and use of the university brand, has almost nothing to do with the traditional role of a university.  They neither teach undergraduates, nor conduct research.  It is mostly a programme of (at PRC government expense) putting native Chinese speakers (typically young graduates from good Chinese universities) into our schools, to support Chinese language (and related) programmes. (There are also “cultural” programmes that look as though they should be better done, if at all, directly through the PRC embassy, not with a local university imprimatur).   A different cohort of these young people come out each year, and they are based in various towns and cities (in Victoria’s case, the North Island up to and including the Bay of Plenty), working in local schools alongside New Zealand registered teachers.  Apparently, no textbooks or the like are provided by Hanban, the Confucius Institutes, or the Mandarin Language Assistants themselves (presumably reducing the likelihood of kids in our schools singing songs celebrating Chairman Mao).

Apparently the hope of Hanban has been to localise Chinese language teaching over time (presumably, in turn, reducing the substantial cost the PRC taxpayer –  in a much poorer country than NZ –  bears).  Even if that is the hope, it isn’t the situation at present, whether in New Zealand or in other countries where CIs are operated.

The recruitment process for the Mandarin language assistants who come out here involves the New Zealand Confucius Institute staff making the final decisions (sensibly enough –  they need people who will fit in, living in perhaps a small New Zealand provincial town for some time). But they make those decisions from a list provided to them by PRC universities.    We can be pretty sure that all of those people –  after all, coming to pursue an official government agenda just by their presence – will have well-vetted. No Falun Gong will have survived the vetting process, but nor will anyone calling for (say) independence for Tibet, free and open elections in the PRC itself, respect for Taiwanese democracy, or freedom of religion or freedom of expression.   That is just the way the PRC is, and he who pays the piper calls the tune.  New Zealand staff needn’t concern themselves with this sort of pre-vetting.

Now, of course, these are young graduates.  Some might be politically passionate, but probably most aren’t –  more concerned with seeing the world, shopping, the opposite sex, developing their English, or whatever, all the while adopting the only safe PRC position (keeping your head down, and your speech tightly constrained).  So I’m not suggesting that when these people come into our classrooms they are generally consciously actively propagating some PRC agenda or worldview to our kids.  But it doesn’t change the fact that they are approved representatives of a heinous regime, and they (and the Victoria staff) have chosen to be complicit with that regime, no matter how often they repeat the line that “we just do language and culture”.     Are they helping some New Zealand kids in the process?  Yes, no doubt.  (And having myself spent time growing up in Kawerau, I was half-pleased to see that kids in places like Kawerau and –  still poorer –  Murapara are getting support in their Chinese language learning.)

But it doesn’t make the system right.  I suggested to the director that it really wasn’t much different than if, say, a cohort of Hitler Youth (which pretty much everyone had to join, whether a zealot or not) had beeen coming to the UK in the mid-late 1930s each summer to teach German language and culture, at the expense of the Nazi regime.  There is nothing wrong with learning German, or Chinese, but the people who work on those programmes (from university vice-chancellors down) make themselves complict in the evil.

If we want to encourage Chinese language learning in New Zealand, how much better if we spent our own money on it?   That is what we do when we want to improve science or maths or English or economics teaching.   It is what self-respecting people do, not mendicants.  We don’t (that I’m aware of) have a government-facilitated programme to bring in native French or German or Spanish speakers for our schools, but if that were regarded as a worthwhile part of secondary education I’d have no particular objection. But spend our own money, recruit people directly ourselves, and recruit them from places (in the Chinese case, eg Taiwan, Singapore, or even semi-free Hong Kong) where we can reasonably confident that a foreign government won’t have prescreened for political suitability and safety.  Particularly not a foreign government like that of the PRC.   (And this is all the more so for courses for our public servants, of the sort the CI conducts.)

You can read the Victoria University Confucius Institute material for yourself: there is plenty of it on their website.   You can also see that the talk about it being “just” language and culture (and doesn’t “culture” encompass “the way we do things” –  the PRC not being a model for most New Zealanders), they are quite open about the political nature of what is going on.  The handbooks for schools might mostly be branded as “Victoria University” products (Vic has many institutes and schools) and perhaps that helps marketing and recruitment in the provinces.  The Annual Reports are a bit different.   We find photos of a Vice-Premier, of a visiting Communist Party secretary.  We read that a counsellor from the PRC Embassy sits on the board of the Confucius Institute, and that one of the CI staff is involved in programmes “to raise China literacy in the public sector”  (we ask the PRC government to help “educate” us on China?   And the Nazi Party to educate us on Germany in the 30s?)   In fact, in the 2017 Annual Report there is a celebratory photo of Xi Jinping on page 2 –  clearly not embarrassed that this tyrant, just taking power for life and further clamping down on any freedoms in the PRC –  launched the Victoria CI in 2010.

The PRC doesn’t have any doubts about the point of the Confucius Institute programme.  But you have to wonder why New Zealand universities, government departments, and decent individuals are so willing to allow themselves to be used by such a dreadful regime.  Language learning generally is a good cause, but ends aren’t all the matter. Means matter too.

The presence of Confucius Institutes clearly isn’t the biggest issue that should be worrying people in the supine, even slavish, way our authorities approach the PRC.  Rather more important is when, for example, the Leader of the Opposition (who as a minister signed us up for a “fusion of civilisations” with this dreadful regime) can claim, apparently with a straight face

He also said he continued to back National MP Jian Yang who was forced to defend himself after confirming that he had taught ‘spies’ in China.     “Before me being or becoming the leader, he has asked and answered quite decisively the questions around all of this … he is a highly valued member of parliament,” Mr Bridges said.

(This of a man hardly heard from in the English language media since the allegations surfaced)

or a Defence Minister who was reported the other day, at a function to celebrate the People’s Liberation Army 91st anniversary, that New Zealand was a “strategic partner” of the PRC.

If you want to update on what sort of regime it is that we allow to put its people in our schools, that we solicit foreign aid from, and have our universities celebrate, I recommend that new Der Spiegel piece on the open-air concentration camp that the Chinese province of Xinjiang has become.  Or an update on the organ transplant abuse situation, that someone sent to me a few days ago.  Perhaps you are inclined to look the other way, or just ignore this issue, as I was until quite recently.  If so, at least I suggest you check out the calibre of some of the people involved in leading the fight against this practice.  Yes, governments need to have relationships with the PRC (stiff formal ones ideally), but we shouldn’t be beggars, and we shouldn’t give our good name to voluntary association with such a regime.

Women at the Reserve Bank

My post the other day, about the Treasury paper on “Women in economics”, was mostly about the apparent waste of (probably quite expensive) staff resources –  diverted from the real and substantive economic challenges Treasury should be addressing.  It seemed to be about virtue-signalling and feel-goodism more than focused analysis, made all the worse because the authors weren’t new graduates repeating an honours project (sometimes the basis for NZAE papers by young economists); indeed one of the authors is the chief economist of The Treasury, a deputy secretary no less.  Of course, that paper in itself was just a small example of what has gone wrong at The Treasury under its current leadership (facilitated by both the past and present government).  The Living Standards Framework, and the coming Wellbeing Budget, are the more prominent examples: a “well-meaning wafflefest” is the best that is likely to be said for that.   The quote is from Pattrick Smellie’s column today –  he seems slightly more optimistic than I am, noting the “intellectual grunt of The Treasury” (perhaps his memories of his time as Roger Douglas’s press secretary in the days when Treasury had intellectual grunt –  agree with them or not), but clearly a bit uneasy that it might all come to nothing much.

As I noted in comments to the previous post, I spent a couple of years working at The Treasury, and although it was getting on for a decade ago now, one of the things that struck me then –  recall, I was coming from the Reserve Bank – was the much higher proportion of women in economics, policy, and core management roles.  Frankly, I found it refreshing, and it was the only time in my working life when I sometimes went to economics/policy meetings at which there were more women than men.  I was struck then by the openness of The Treasury to part-time work, and to job-sharing arrangements, which seemed to make the place more attractive to women, especially those with young children (including several who had moved from the Reserve Bank to The Treasury).  The situation is also self-reinforcing –  when some (future) parents see flexible arrangements in an institution genuinely working for other people, it gives them more confidence it can work for them.  My own children were very young at the time, and my wife was considering going back to work, so they were issues that I paid attention to.

Perhaps it has all gone downhill again, even in these areas, in the last few years.  But I doubt it.   Which is partly why I struggle to take seriously Gabs Makhlouf, Tim Ng, and the rest of them whipping themselves about not meeting self-imposed quotas –  or indeed giving more attention to such issues, including in their Annual Report, than to lifting analytical excellence and the quality of their policy advice.   It just isn’t clear that they are addressing a real problem in The Treasury –  perhaps exemplified by them discovering that the institution had been using a tool that would have discouraged the use of words like “analysis” in job adverts, because they were somehow male-dominated words.

By contrast, I think there probably is a real situation that needs addressing at the Reserve Bank.  Here is how I described my assessment of the situation at the Bank in a comment on a post a few months ago

I agree that sex is not, and should not be, a relevant criterion in the selection of a Governor. But I also recognise that in a powerful public sector institution, with a high public profile and pervasive impact, in this era it isn’t necessarily inappropriate that questions should be asked to understand why, after 84 years there has never been a women appointed to a policy or operational senior management position (Governors, or heads of economics, financial markets, macrofinanancial stability, prudential regulation, or even notes and coins). For years, I defended those outcomes as mostly reflecting preferences (far more men end up doing macro and finance – and far more women do health and social economics etc), and I still think there is something to that story, but I’m no longer convinced it is enough of an explanation – substantively or politically. After all, Janet Yellen has just stepped down, and the RBA has two pretty impressive female Assistant Governors.

A commenter on my Treasury post drew my attention to an article from a couple of months ago, quoting the new Governor, that I hadn’t seen.   In it, Adrian Orr says

“I’m disappointed that it is as imbalanced as it is. We will be working actively. We are just going to have to be far more aggressive at getting the gender balance balanced,” Orr said in a recent interview with BusinessDesk.

Consistent with my comments in that quote just above

At the Reserve Bank, 36 percent of its 252 staff were women, although that dropped down to 20 percent of management roles – including managers and team leaders and senior positions of influence – and 26.2 percent of senior specialist roles. The Reserve Bank’s website shows just two of 13 senior managers are women: chief information officer Klarissa Plimmer and human resources head Lindsay Jenkin.

To its credit, the Bank is now being a bit more open with some of the data

In the year to June 30, 2017, the bank tried to hire six mid and senior management positions, attracting 101 external applicants, of which 19 were women. Of the four external hires, only one was female.

In particular, the data around applications for the position of Governor.    They initially refused to release this data, only relenting after the (surprisingly quick) intervention of the Ombudsman.

In the same vein, the hiring process that appointed Orr attracted 48 applicants, of which just six were women. Only two of those women made the final short list of 25.

But in a sense, the data on applicants for the position of Governor highlight that whatever is going on, isn’t a simple and straightforward story about (eg) institutional bias.

After all, anyone is free to apply, and in applying to be Governor you are backing yourself to be able to make a difference, including if you had heard that the Bank wasn’t (say) very welcoming to capable women.

And who got to make the decisions?  Well, the Minister of Finance was the final decisionmaker, and even he had to take the nomination to Cabinet (chaired by a woman).  But the real decision on the appointment of the Governor was made by the Reserve Bank’s Board.   And at the time, late last year, of the six Board members, three were women (including the deputy chair).  I only know one of the three, but none looks like the sort of person who would be pushed around by anyone, let alone consciously or unconsciously biased against female candidates.

Successful organisations mostly end up promoting from within.  It is a mark of the Reserve Bank’s failure as an organisation that 1982 was the last time an internal candidate was appointed as Governor and, perhaps even more so, that currently three of the four most senior positions (including Governor and Deputy Governor) are held by outsiders.  The failure of the Reserve Bank to have women in senior core functional positions (top advisers or senior managers) is, to a substantial extent, a failure of history, the failure to develop and maintain a culture and working arrangements that made it attractive for the very many female economics (and related) graduates the Bank has recruited over the years to stay.  Of course, most of all the graduates the Bank hires go on to do other things, but not one of the many female hires has stayed. I look around Wellington and see various women who once worked for the Bank in economics roles now holding relatively senior positions in other agencies.

The Bank itself has made this point.

The Reserve Bank admitted as much during a Parliamentary review of its 2017 annual report in February, with then acting governor Grant Spencer saying the bank hired a lot of women graduates, but struggled to retain women in senior and management roles

It is the single biggest difference between the Reserve Bank of New Zealand and the Reserve Bank of Australia: both of the two (impressive) female RBA Assistant Governors (in core areas –  economics and financial system) have spent the bulk of their careers at the RBA.  There has been nothing similar at the Reserve Bank of New Zealand.

To be sure, the Reserve Bank of New Zealand is a smaller organisation.  And no organisation can compel an individual to stay.  And I –  and probably most people –  am firmly opposed to so-called “positive discrimination”.  But our central bank should be the sort of place –  interesting work, reasonable prestige –  that plenty of able people (male and female) would want to stay at.

I wrote earlier about my observations of flexible working arrangements at The Treasury.  There was, in practice, nothing similar at the Reserve Bank; few or no examples of it working successfully, even if on paper the rules allowed it.  In my observation, it wasn’t that senior managers were in any active sense discriminating against women, but they just didn’t have a mindset that focused on creating an environment where women (in particular) who wanted to be parents as well as economists would find it most attractive to work.  That was still my observation, as part of the Economics Department management group, just a few years ago.  And, as a result, decades on the Bank seems to have not many more women in senior policy or analysis roles than it did when I started there 35 years ago.

Is the quality of the Bank’s work poorer as a result?  Probably not much, but probably a bit –  I seriously doubt there is a distinctive female perspective on macro or financial stability or bank regulation, but some of those very able women who didn’t stay might well have made a stronger contribution than at least some of the men who did.  We’ll never know.

There are probably aren’t any wise quick fixes.  As the pool of applicants for Governor suggests, there aren’t currently many women in New Zealand with a strong interest and/or the skills/experience for the very top roles in the Bank.  And, as the Treasury paper noted, the number of people doing economics to an advanced level at university is falling, and the proportion of women among them seems to be falling away a bit too.   Absent token appointments (which would be bad for everyone, except perhaps the appointee, and perhaps even her) fixing the Bank is likely to be the work of a decade or more –  most worthwhile things probably are.  But it still needs to be treated as a priority, for both substantive reasons, and because the Bank is a high profile and very powerful institution and questions will (and should) be asked.

What worries me a bit is that the Governor often shows signs of appearing to favour the quick win and the rather-too-glib answers, rather than digging more deeply into issues.  He has, after all, lots of turf battles to fight in the next few years, and a government that is all too keen on quotas.  In the article my reader linked to there was a private sector example of the sort of questionable responses to external pressures

ANZ Bank New Zealand has a policy that any short list for a position must be 50:50 gender split and the interview panel must also be equally split.

And yet, if honours graduates in economics are roughly one third female and two thirds male, a shortlist requirement of 50/50 male and female will (by construction) often not mean that only the best candidates are on the list.

And keep an eye out for appointments from the Governor in which he chooses to positively discriminate (while no doubt denying it).  I was a bit puzzled recently to see who the Bank had appointed an acting head of its Macro-financial Department (to fill in for a substantial period while the permanent head is on secondment leading the review of the RB Act).  The Macrofinancial Department is responsible for producing the Financial Stability Report, and for analysis and policy advice on macro-stability and macro-prudential issues. It also happens to include the Bank’s statistics unit (which doesn’t naturally fit in any of the core departments).  The acting head of the unit has no background at all in financial stability, regulatory policy or anything of the sort.  I gather she is quite well-regarded as manager of the statistics unit, but is hardly a natural fit for leading the entire policy-focused department.   Perhaps she really was the best available option, but when the Governor is out promising to be “aggressive” in rebalancing the statistics, it is inevitable (and sadly appropriate) that the question will have to be asked.

Change needs to come, but it needs to be done well and wisely.

 

What is “formulating monetary policy”?

Under clause 8 of the current Reserve Bank of New Zealand Act, the primary function of the Bank is “to formulate and implement monetary policy”.   All powers rest with the Governor personally.

I did a lot of work over the years on issues around monetary policy, both bigger picture stuff around goals and governance, and on the detailed implementation arrangements (the design of the OCR system itself, and various supporting liquidity management arrangements).  I sat on whatever internal advisory committees we had for the best part of 25 years.  I wrote this piece, for example, and this one.  So I know whereof I speak.  But I don’t recall anyone ever making much of the distinction between formulation and implementation, or getting a legal opinion on which of “formulate” or “implement” mattered in what particular context.  Why would we have?  All the powers rested with Governor, and there was no particularly need to clearly delineate formulation activities from implementation activities, either in the present, or in thinking about contigency planning.

In practice, and on a day to day basis, under the current system the two activities are fairly clearly divided: monetary policy formulation is, in effect, things up to including the OCR decision, while implementation involves the detailed management of market conditions to deliver something akin to the chosen level of the OCR.

But the broad parameters of an OCR system itself –  indeed, even the decision to have an OCR (we’ve only had one for 19 years) –  doesn’t fall neatly on either side of a line between “formulation” and “implementation”.  And then there is foreign exchange intervention for monetary policy purposes. Perhaps things have changed, but when I was there decisions that the preconditions for intervention were right (the “traffic light system”) were made by the Governor in the OCR Advisory Group context, while (rare) decisions to actually intervene were made by the Governor directly liaising with the Financial Markets operational department.

It doesn’t matter much at present, because all powers vest with the Governor, and how or whether he takes advice on individual bits of his monetary policy responsibilities is entirely up to him.

But in the Reserve Bank bill introduced last week splits those two functions apart.

Under the amended clause 8, it is intended that

The Bank, acting through the MPC, has the function of formulating a monetary policy….

and, in section 8(3)

The function of formulating monetary policy includes deciding the approach by which the operational objectives set out in a remit are intended to be achieved.

And in a new clause 9, we read

The Bank has the function of implementing monetary policy in accordance with this Act.

And later in bill, in the new clause 63B we read

The MPC must perform the function of formulating monetary policy in accordance with this Act

Neither “formulation” nor “implementation” is further defined in the Act at present, and I can’t see any attempt to add more specific definitions in the new bill, other than a circular definition which says that

formulating, in relation to monetary policy, has the meaning set out in section 8(3)

Which, to say the very least, isn’t very specific.

I have two concerns about this, which boil down to much the same point I was making in a post last week: this bill would results in a committee which is likely to be nothing more than figleaf, and which leaves all substantive power in the hands of the Governor (and his chosen management team).  That is likely to be even more so in the next serious recession, when the limits of conventional monetary policy (how far the OCR can be cut) are likely to be reached.  If that is the Minister’s intention, he should be honest enough to say so. If he is serious about building a stronger, more open institutions, not totally controlled by management, he needs to look again.

I suspect the intention of the wording of the bill is that OCR decisions (and only those decisions) should be made in, and by, the MPC.   That would be consistent with the explanatory note to the bill, which twice refers (loosely) to the goal being to institute an MPC “to make decisions on monetary policy”.

But the OCR itself is (rightly) not referred to in the Act.  And clause 8(3) only talks, very loosely, about “>deciding the approach by which the operational objectives set out in a remit are intended to be achieved”.   Couldn’t a Governor argue that not even the specific OCR decision is covered by that mandate?   The MPC might decide that it thought an inflation target should be achieved over, say, a two-year forecast horizon, but it isn’t clear why the Governor couldn’t insist that even specific OCR decisions were a matter for him alone, provided they weren’t inconsistent with the MPC’s “approach”.   That interpretation might be buttressed by the proposed wording around Monetary Policy Statements.  MPSs need the approval of the MPC, but the specific material an MPS has to cover is  (emphasis added)

specify the approach by which the MPC intends to achieve the operational objectives [and] state the MPC’s reasons for adopting that approach

I’m not suggesting such a departure is at all likely under the current Governor, but legislation should be written in a way that is robust, including to power-grabbers (either the Governor, or the MPC).   Specifically, it would be quite inappropriate for the Governor to be able to assert that OCR setting was purely his responsibility, and that MPC was only there to provide advice, even a decision, on the broad “approach” to achieving the remit goals.  It would make a mockery of the rhetoric around reform.
Similarly, I don’t think it should be acceptable for the Governor alone to decide to, say, scrap the OCR system itself (which would appear to be possible under the current legislative drafting) or to modify the system substantially in ways that led to much greater (or much reduced) volatility in key financial prices.  I’m not even convinced that choices around the policies the Bank adopts on what sort of collateral to take in its market operations, implementing monetary policy, should be matters for the Governor alone.  Such decisions have the potential to materially affect monetary conditions, and the achievement of the remit goals set for the MPC by the Minister of Finance.   At a bare minimum, the Governor should be required to consult with the MPC on such matters, and have regard to any comments or representations on such matters they wish to make.  Similarly, I don’t believe it should be acceptable for foreign exchange intervention decisions (the traffic lights) done for monetary policy purposes (or, indeed, the policy on such matters) to be made outside of the context of the MPC.

These issues might seem of second-order importance in normal times.  They have the potential to become hugely important in crisis periods, or in circumstances in which the limits of the OCR have been reached (recall that the Bank itself reckons the practical limit is only 250 basis point from here).  In those circumstances, if the MPC has power only over the OCR –  and perhaps not even secure statutory power there –  it will be all-but neutered; irrelevant to the real choices that the Bank management (and perhaps the government) is making.

Thus, for example, decisions to:

  • intervene heavily to drive down the exchange rate,
  • decisions to undertake substantial QE,
  • decisions to intervene to control yields on interest rate swaps

(all options touched on in the Bank’s recent article)

as well, potentially, as decisions around any limits on the volume of notes and coins, or on the conversion rates between settlement balances and notes and coins, would have potentially very large consequences for monetary conditions, and for the ability to meet the remit target

but I suspect the Governor would argue that they are all matters for him to decide, not choices for the MPC.

If the Governor successfully made such an argument, it would be unfortunate on at least two counts:

  • substantively, since the whole argument (made in the Explanatory Note, and in the Minister’s speech) is the benefits of diverse perspectives.  Such perspectives would be likely to be more valuable usual in an unconventional environment, which management had not previously experienced,
  • transparency.  The bill envisages requiring that some (pretty neutered) MPC minutes will have to be routinely published.  But if the important stuff of monetary policy is still being decided by the Governor –  not just him block-voting management in the committee – even what limited gains we might hope for around transparency and accountability will be foregone.

Of course, one way of looking at all this is to observe that if I’m right and the new legislation just cements in effective control by the Governor (through his management majority of the committee, and his likely clout with the board regarding the handful of externals) perhaps it doesn’t really matter very much.    Good people are likely to be reluctant to accept appointment, and that would simply be reinforced during a period when the OCR itself was neutered.

But, presumably the Minister doesn’t accept that interpretation (after all, he talks about the benefits of committees, diverse perspectives etc).  Nor, presumably, does the Opposition –  who talk up the risks to the independence of the Bank.  The legislation should be better-worded:

  • it should be explicit that the MPC has responsibility for decisions on the OCR or any official interest rate,
  • it should be explicit that the MPC has policy responsibility for matters to do with foreign exchange intervention done in support of monetary policy, and for policy parameters around domestic liquidity management,
  • it should be explicit that policy matters to do with, for example, QE should be matters for the MPC
  • operational decisions on matters within these mandates would be matter for the Governor, but accountable to the MPC,
  • and, at very least, the MPC should be free to make written representations on any other aspects of Bank responsibility which, in their view, are likely to affect their ability to deliver the remit objectives.

Consistent with that, of course, the MPC should have a clear majority of outsiders, and a clear majority of the members (preferably all) should be directly appointed by the Minister of Finance, without the involvement of the Bank’s (ill-qualified, illegitimate, and unaccountable) Board.

Treasury and modish ideological agendas

You might have thought that there were real and important issues for The Treasury to be generating research and advice on.   Things like, for example, the decades-long productivity underperformance and the associated widening gap between New Zealand and Australia.  Or a housing and urban land market which renders what should be a basic –  the ability to buy one’s own house –  out of reach for so many New Zealanders.    Or even just preparing for the next recession.   Analytical capability is a scarce resource, and time used for one thing can’t be used for others.

But instead…..

In a post last night about various papers presented at the recent New Zealand Association of Economists conference, Eric Crampton alerted his readers last night to a contribution from Treasury’s chief economist (and Deputy Secretary) Tim Ng and one of his staff.

I did not attend Treasury’s session in which they noted Treasury’s diversity and inclusion programme which saw the scrubbing of the word “analysis” from Treasury’s recruitment ads as overly male-coded. Those interested in priorities at Treasury might wish to read the paper.

And so I did.   I’m not sure I could recommend anyone else do so, except to shed light on what seems to have become of a once-capable rigorous high-performing institution.   We’ll see later the background to the “overly male-coded” stuff, but –  in fairness to Treasury –  the first Treasury job advert I clicked on did still look for

  • Critical thinking, analytical ability and learning agility
  • An ability to drive discussion and provide critical analysis

[UPDATE: As Eric notes in a comment below, he has now amended his reference to “analysis”.]

There is no standard disclaimer on the paper, suggesting that we should take it as very much an institutional view (perhaps not surprisingly, when one of the authors is a member of the senior management of The Treasury).

The Ng/Morrissey paper has several sections.  The first relates to what the authors describe as “women’s (in)visibility within mainstream economic theoretical approaches, in particular, with respect to the conception of ‘rational man’.

A well-known trope in economics (and in critiques of economics and of economists) is that of the rational individual, one who is self-interested and seeks to maximise their own welfare, and who is consistently rational in the sense of diligently and correctly applying the calculus of constrained optimisation using complete information. Sometimes this actor is explicitly referred to as a man (especially in writings earlier than the mid-20th century – no doubt at least partly reflecting the linguistic conventions of the time). At other times, it has been argued that this is implicit in the way in which the scope of the subject is defined for the purposes of research or pedagogy.

In my years of formal economics study –  some decades ago now –  I don’t recall any aspect of economic analysis ever being framed in terms that focused on men, or male involvement in the market.  Since I focused mainly on macroeconomic and monetary areas, perhaps it was different in other sub-disciplines, but I doubt it.    And if standard simplifying assumptions –  as much about tractability as anything – about rationality are a common feature in models, those assumptions are not, actively or implicitly, focused on male perspectives.   They are a proposition that people will use the information they have, that they will pursue the best interests of themselves, their families, or other things they care about.  None of which should be terribly controversial.

But Ng and Morrissey seem to think something terribly important is missing.

We look at the degree to which mainstream theory adequately captures the value of the roles typically undertaken by women, especially unpaid care work, and examines how alternative models, such as those based on the mother/child relationship, could improve economic understanding and policy advice in contemporary developed economies.

They go on

There is a consensus from a number of notable authors that the new paradigm would have the mother / child relationship at its heart as this provides a more accurate depiction of fundamental human interaction.

Both Orloff (2009) and Strassman (1993) identified human’s dependency in infancy and old age, and often in between, as unchosen but present. By identifying dependency as natural they resist the negativity now associated with the term. Folbre (1991) considers how this negativity came about and suggests that women’s dependency was created as a fact through discourse, in the vocabulary used in the political and economic census, which tied non-earning women to earning or moneyed males.

Held (1990) makes her case by identifying the inherent dependency within the relationship between the mothering person and the child, and based on her observation of children as ‘necessarily dependent’, she puts this need at the centre of human interaction. Hartsock (1983) makes a similar argument in asserting mother/ infant as the prototypical human interaction. The importance of this relationship is discussed by Fineman (1995) who suggests the classic economic focus on the sexual relationship neuters the mother from her child.

I struggle to see how any this –  even if it has any substantive merit –  has any relevance to the sort of work, and advice, The Treasury should be providing.  But no doubt it goes down well with the Ministry for Women.

The authors do offer some thoughts on the potential relevance. They begin thus

The implications of the above for policy depend to some extent on the degree to which gender roles and preferences are socially constructed (rather than innate). If the latter, then policy settings (e.g. labour market regulation) have a role not only in recognising different gender roles and preferences, but also in possibly reinforcing or leaning against gender roles that contribute to gender inequality. A more comprehensive microeconomic and measurement approach that incorporates care work would support better analysis of policy settings to promote better gender equality over the longer run.

But even this is almost content-free.    Whether things are socially constructed (society having evolved the way it did for reasons that presumably had survival value) or innate, what role is it of The Treasury to be trying to impose its vision on how people organise their lives?    What, after all, does “gender equality” mean –  beyond individual equality of opportunity, before the law – if there are indeed innate differences (on average) between men and women?

It is a very heavy-handed feminist analysis

A number of feminist theorists have noted the value of paid employment for women. It has been suggested as being ‘constitutive of citizenship, community, and even personal identity’ (Schultz, 2000:1886). It has also been proposed to be a vehicle for participation in society and entitlement to social insurance rights (Lister, 2002:521). Of course paid work also has benefit to women in terms of poverty alleviation (Lawton and Thompson, 2013; Ben-Galim et al, 2014; Thompson and Ben-Galim, 2014).

Whereas I’m quite sure my grandmothers (and even my mother) would not have seen paid employment as a positive for them (or for their families).  Both would have seen it as constraining their ability to be heavily involved in church and community activities.  Nor, in today’s terms, is there any recognition of the fact that many families would prefer one parent (often the mother) to be able to stay at home fulltime with young children, but find that a near-impossible choice to make given the dysfunction that is the housing market.   (And, as a voluntary stay-at-home parent –  albeit male –  I don’t feel remotely disenfranchised or devalued as a result of that household choice.)

Four pages of the paper is devoted to a rather strained attempt to demonstrate the potential value of a gendered lens on macroeconomics  (Ng is a macroeconomist, indeed a former Reserve Bank colleague of mine).    Some charts show basically no difference between the cyclical behaviour of male and female unemployment rates, but the authors are undeterred

Of course, this descriptive commentary is just that – we are not attempting here to make strong empirical claims about gender differences relevant to the cyclical labour market behaviour. Instead the idea is to simply to illustrate, with a bit of introspection, the directions in which policy thinking – macroeconomic in this case – could be enriched if a gender lens is taken, exploring the possible links between behaviour within the household regarding participating in the labour market vs. other activities, and the possibly gendered impacts of macroeconomic phenomena on employment, which is an important contextual factor for within-household decisions. A public policy which aspires to be relevant to different groups in society, including different genders, and cognisant of the possibly different impacts of policy on those groups, could be strengthened by taking more of this kind of approach.

For all the blather –  and without denying that it can be interesting to understand differences in how different population groups (male and female, old and young, European and Maori, Christian, Muslim, Hindu, and pagan, and so on) behave –  there is, it seems, nothing there.

Having failed to demonstrate a problem –  except perhaps an agenda to pursue –  the authors push on to look at the participation of women in the economics discipline.  This. it appears, is key (to what, one might ask?)

Education is our critical starting point. Those who study economics will later be those who practise economics, those who work in policy making, and those who undertake economic research. In order to ensure diverse perspectives are represented within that work, particularly with respect to gender and other distributional consequences of economic policy, it is important to have diversity within those who study economics. As this paper specifically focuses on gender, we will consider the position of women in economic education, in particular. Such a focus is supported by New Zealand’s international obligations through the Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW) and the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs).

When authors have to invoke CEDAW (twice in two paragraphs) and UN SDGs you know they are on substantively weak ground.

As the authors demonstrate, numbers of people studying economics have been in decline (not just in New Zealand).  That probably should be of concern, at least to agencies wanting to employ economists.   The authors present numbers suggesting that, at least at high school level, the drop has been particularly concentrated among girls (personally –  and I have both a son and a daughter doing high school economics at present –  that seems a wise choice on the girls’ part, so mind-numbing (and non-economic) is much of what is taught as economics at high school).

At an advanced tertiary level, it seems that perhaps a third of the economics students are female (in 2014, 31.4 per cent of economics doctorates were awarded to women).  Ng and Morrissey don’t like this at all.

What is our impressionistic conclusion about these patterns in participation in economics education by gender? There appears to be a “pipeline” problem with both genders, and some evidence that the proportion of women is falling – a double whammy in terms of the female economist pipeline in particular. Evidence is accumulating on a number of smoking guns relating to the way in which economics itself is taught and perceived, how leaders in the field are presented, and questions about the social construction of our identity as economists. It appears that a lot of work is needed on several fronts to improve the female pipeline into the profession.

But what, specifically, is the problem?  They don’t say?  Do they have a problem with the fact that 97.5 per cent of speech langugage pathologists are women or that 98.3 per cent of automotive service technicians and mechanics are male (US data for 2016)?   Can they, for example, point to areas where The Treasury’s analysis and advice has been deficient because female students have chosen –  and over decades now it has been pure choice –  not to study economics?   They make no effort to do so in the paper.  The consistent undertone appears to be that Treasury (and economists) make policy, when in fact politicians make the big choices (and, as it happens, in New Zealand three of our last five Prime Ministers have been female).

Ng and Morrissey go on to a new section of the paper

This section reports some experience with a programme to increase gender diversity in an economic and financial Ministry, the New Zealand Treasury.

They perhaps don’t help their case by suggesting that the current head of the International Monetary Fund is an economist, when in fact she is a lawyer and politician.

Treasury is certainly at the forefront of politically-correct blather

In the context of the now well-established literature on the benefits of diversity for the quality of decision making, as well as an obligation to be a good employer, the Treasury has for some time had an active and comprehensive diversity and inclusion (D&I) programme. The discussion in Section 2 about the (non-)role of women in mainstream economic models and approaches, and the consequences of the potential “blind spots” this might imply for policy development, reinforces the importance of gender diversity in a Ministry focused on economics and finance such as the Treasury. Meanwhile, the gender imbalance in the economist pipeline discussed in Section 3 underlines why the Treasury cannot be complacent about this issue.

In fact, this stuff carries over to the Treasury Annual Report

The Secretary to the Treasury co-leads the diversity and inclusion work stream in Better Public Services 2.0 and is a Diversity Champion for the Global Women’s Champions for Change initiative.

Too bad he isn’t a champion of analytical excellence, or of fixing New Zealand’s deep-seated economic problems (but then, not being a New Zealander, he doesn’t have much motivation to care).

Consistent with all this, they run quasi-quotas.  They would probably object to the numbers being called quotas, but when you report your target near the front of your Annual Report, it must put a great deal of pressure on individual managers to hire to the quota, not to ability to do the job.

tsy quotas

Franly, citizens should be more worried about the proportions of people who are top-notch economic and policy analysts, not their skin colour or sex.

But not, apparently, at Treasury.  Here is Ng and Morrissey again

As the data above suggest, a clear issue is the lack of women in senior leadership positions, and part of the response includes obligations on managers to have regular career discussions with all staff on a regular basis and for succession planning to more systematically address possible sources of disadvantage for women. Within-grade gender pay gaps are regularly examined and the target of eliminating any such gaps explicitly included as a criterion in annual remuneration reviews. The parental leave and flexible working policies are regularly reviewed to check for gendered impacts.

But still with no attempt whatever to suggest how any of this has adversely affected Treasury’s policy advice.    Surely that should be the most important test?

It is also clear that The Treasury is dead-keen on the flawed concept of unconscious bias (here for some problems with the Australian public service experience), and the associated training/indoctrination.

Application of emerging insights from studies of unconscious bias have been quite influential in this work, and point to certain interventions and relatively simple changes in HR processes that may help to address some of these biases. For this paper, we took the opportunity to explore in some detail the Treasury’s recent use of a tool, Kat Matfield’s Gender Decoder, which provides an easy way of assessing the potentially different impacts on prospective male and female applicants of language used in job advertisements. The Treasury now has about two years of experience with using this tool as a way of reducing unintended gendered impacts on pools of job applicants

What of this tool?

The Gender Decoder is available on the web at http://gender-decoder.katmatfield.com/. This tool is based on the findings of Gaucher et al. (2011) which provide evidence that certain words in job ads appeal differently to each gender, which may be a channel to exacerbate existing gender imbalances by profession, especially in traditionally male-dominated occupations. The theoretical mechanism is essentially that words connoting individualism and agency (“leadership”, “ambitious”, “challenging”), or that reflect stereotyped male traits, tend to appeal more to male applicants, while words connoting communalism or that reflect stereotyped female traits appeal more to female applicants.

They attempt some analysis of Treasury’s experience with the tool  (emphasis added)

To look at gendered language in Treasury job ads in general and the possible impact of the use of this tool, we sampled 40 job ads posted by male and female hiring managers, 20 before and 20 after the introduction of the use of the tool in March 2016 as a recommended practice in Treasury recruitment.

Looking at the pre-2016 ads, it is notable that male and female hiring managers tended to code their ads towards their own gender, with male managers in particular tending to use strongly “masculine” language. Post 2016, male managers showed roughly balanced gender coding in their ads, while female managers showed a dominance of masculine-coded ads. The preponderance of strong gender coding increased after the introduction of the use of the tool, the opposite to what one would expect if the tool alerted managers to unintended or unnecessary gendered language in ads and if the managers wanted to attract gender-balanced pools of applicants (as they are encouraged to do by Treasury policy).

So those were “quotas” again, in that final sentence?  I’d hope Treasury managers, male and female, wanted the best pool of applicants, based on ability to do the job, not based on some institutional gender quota approach (that seems to disregard the fact –  demonstrated earlier in the paper –  that at least among economists, there will only be half as many women as men in the overall pool to atract applications from).

The authors reflect

Faced with this somewhat surprising result…..we looked at the nature of the jobs advertised themselves, and this exercise suggested to us some limits to the effect that scrubbing job ads of unintended gendered language can have on the gender split of applicants, including for economics jobs. The masculine-coded ads tended to be for jobs in the analytical functions of the Treasury, and “analysis” is coded as a masculine word by the Gender Decoder. Treasury also routinely presents itself as “ambitious” and a “leader” – another masculine-coded word – in the area of economic policy. The feminine-coded ads tended to be for “support” and corporate jobs, with an emphasis on “collaboration” – both feminine-coded words.

Dear, oh dear.  Treasury management has for some time been using an HR tool that treats “analysis” as some nasty male word.    Perhaps this paragraph should lead Ng and his senior management colleagues to rethink, and to wonder whether zeal and ideological presuppositions have not been not been outstripping evidence and analysis?

The Ng and Morrissey paper concludes this way

This paper has reviewed the position of women in economic theory, economics education and economics practice. We argued that the role of women and care work is insufficiently incorporated into mainstream economic models and approaches, and illustrated how a more gender-sensitive approach could enrich a particularly gender-blind sub-discipline – macroeconomics. We then documented the lack of a deep pipeline of women entering the profession, and the gender imbalance at senior levels in our own economic Ministry.

and

We conclude that the position of women in all three areas of economics is unsatisfactory. While the quality of management and decision making in general has been shown to benefit from diversity in general, in the delivery of quality economic policy advice that benefits all New Zealanders, it is particularly important that a diversity of perspectives is represented.

As a profession we have lots of work to do.

Eric Crampton has previously challenged  as “wishful thinking” (or worse) the Secretary to the Treasury’s repeated insistence on the substantive benefits from “diversity” (population diversity, rather than diversity of view).  Other recent New Zealand research has challenged that proposition too.

The Treasury seems to have become committed to the modish view that how one analyses an issue depends on where one comes from (at least race and sex, although presumably their logic applies to age, religion, birthplace, and all the other trendy identity markers).  As an institution, they now have a huge distance to go, lots of work to do, to restore a reputation for analytical excellence.  Between their institutional weaknesses and the lack of demand for excellence from our politicians, it is no wonder our serious economic problems aren’t seriously addressed.  Pursuing modish causes, no doubt ones in favour with the government of the day, is easier I guess.

The former Minister of Finance, Bill English, had many weak points in his political record.  Among them was his decision a few years ago to support the reappointment of Gabs Makhlouf as Secretary to the Treasury (when, within the law, he’d have been quite within his rights to have asked SSC to find someone who might actually restore the quality of Treasury we once had).    We are the poorer for that degradation of what was once a strong, robust, and analytically-driven institution.  Politicians make policy, and a good Treasury can’t force them to make good policy, but a poor Treasury gives them all the excuses they need to avoid tackling the real issues (while revelling in the feel-good content-lite nature of the coming Wellbeing Budget).

In the meantime, one has to wonder about the opportunity cost of the Ng/Morrissey paper.  Time spent writing it, is (taxpayers’) time that could have been used for tackling some real issues.